But She Breaks
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: [CSI Miami] Takes place after Kryptonite. Calleigh returns to Louisiana to recover, and to hide. [HoratioCalleigh] COMPLETE!
1. one

Title: But She Breaks

Author: Melanie-Anne

Email: melani_anne@yahoo.com 

Rating: PG-13 

Archive: Anywhere, just let me know so I can visit.

Summary: Takes place after Kryptonite. Calleigh returns to Louisiana to recover, and to hide. [Horatio/Calleigh]

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine. Everything else is made up.

A/N: The second in my series. It's probably not going to make a whole lot of sense unless you've read Kryptonite.

* * *

I take 

Just like a woman

Yes I do

And I make love

Just like a woman

And I ache

Just like a woman

But I break

Like a little girl

~Nina Simone, "Just Like A Woman"

* * *

Sometimes Calleigh wished she hadn't woken up at all. Every little movement hurt and when she wasn't strung out on sedatives, she was in the most pain she'd ever been in her whole life. 

From the bits of conversations that she'd managed to piece together, it was a miracle she was alive at all. 

A week after she woke up, the doctors started cutting down on the painkillers and Calleigh was able to hold a conversation without drifting off halfway. It was then that she noticed her room was filled with tulips. When a nurse read her the card, she found out they were from Horatio.

A few days after that, she was conscious when the nurse changed her dressings. She strained her neck to see, letting her head fall back against the cushions when the nurse said she'd fetch a mirror. The wound was ugly, black stitches standing out against the inflamed pink flesh. She decided she didn't want to see what her back looked like.

She didn't remember much of her abduction and injury. When Alexx filled her in, she looked up at the ceiling and blinked to keep the tears at bay.

Horatio visited every day, keeping her up to date on what was happening at CSI. She could see the guilt in his eyes, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to tell him it wasn't his fault. She remembered their single night together and knew he still wanted to talk about it, and she was glad when he didn't bring it up.

She smiled when her dad visited and cried when he told her he loved her.

The next time Alexx dropped by, Calleigh asked her if she'd ever wondered how her life would have turned out if she'd taken another path.

"All the time," Alexx said. "But then I think of what I'd be missing out now. Why, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing. Everything. I think about dying a lot." She chuckled. "I guess that's natural, though. Dr. Ruben tells me every day how lucky I am."

"You are lucky. If Horatio had found you any later . . ." Alexx caught sight of her friend's expression and trailed off. "What? What did I say?"

Calleigh closed her eyes, but she was stuck in a hospital bed and there was nowhere for her to hide. "Nothing."

"You know, I've never seen Horatio that upset before."

"Alexx, let's not talk about Horatio."

"Okay," Alexx said. She poured herself a glass of water.

"He was here again today."

Alexx smiled. "Really."

"I just . . . I don't know what to do. I mean, who knows how long I'm going to be stuck here for? And it's not like I know for sure that he's even interested in anything . . . in me." She sighed. "Come on, Alexx. Give me some advice."

"I thought you didn't want to talk about him."

Calleigh turned her head to her friend. "Alexx," she wailed.

"I can't tell you what to do."

Calleigh pressed her lips together in a thin line. "I think I want to go home for a while. I know my mother wants me back."

"A change of scenery might be good for you. It might give you a fresh perspective." 

A fresh perspective, Calleigh thought. Yes, and no six-foot tall, red-haired distractions.

A month later, Dr. Ruben deemed Calleigh well enough to make the trip. It was a long, uncomfortable flight for her, but when she arrived in Darnell, she was glad she'd come. Her mother made sure she went straight to bed. 

"That doctor of yours said you needed bedrest for another month at least," Marjorie Duquesne said in a no-nonsense tone. Calleigh was too exhausted to argue, and let the nurse her mother had hired settle her in her childhood bedroom.

She spent the next few days sleeping, reading, watching TV and talking to her mother. Marjorie hinted that now was the perfect time to think of a career change; Calleigh said she loved her job and she couldn't imagine ever doing anything else. 

And she tried not to miss Horatio.

* * *

CSI wasn't the same without her. Horatio often walked into the ballistics lab with a question for her, only to remember too late that she wasn't there. Some nights he woke up expecting her to be on the other side of the bed; other nights he woke up dreaming of her broken, bloody body.

He wasn't the only one who missed her. Sometimes he found Speed or Delko in the lab, wishing they could bounce ideas around with her. He knew everyone had questions about his relationship with Calleigh; his behavior those horrific few hours when no one knew whether she would live or die had been that of a man who was on the verge of losing everything. Only Adele had asked outright, but he hadn't given her a straight answer. He couldn't give her an answer he didn't have.

He called Calleigh twice, but both times she was sleeping, her mother said. He hoped that was the case, and that she wasn't avoiding his calls.

One night he received a phone call from Kasey's bar. He stopped what he was doing and went to pick up Kenwall Duquesne. When Kenwall asked where Calleigh was, it took every ounce of Horatio's self-control not to grab him and shake him until he remembered. Instead, he quietly recounted, in vivid detail, the events surrounding Calleigh's injury. By the time he had finished, Kenwall was hunched over the bar, tears of self-recrimination pouring down his cheeks. He said he was sorry, and swore he'd change, that he'd make it up to her. Horatio asked him if he meant it.

When Horatio got home, he opened his liquor cabinet and poured the alcohol down the drain. He couldn't help thinking how easy it was to turn to drink in order to forget, and he could think of a few nights when he'd come close.

He didn't want to end up like Kenwall Duquesne.

* * *

Horatio slipped into the back row of the courtroom to observe Carlo Dos Santos' sentencing. The evidence against him had been overwhelming and he'd been found guilty of Ray's kidnapping and Calleigh's attempted murder. The judge leaned forward and looked straight at Dos Santos as he assured him he would live out his days in prison. As Dos Santos was led away, he turned and winked at Horatio.

Yelina invited him over for a celebratory dinner. He wasn't surprised when he arrived to find Hagen already there. He and Ray were playing catch in the back yard. Horatio felt a momentary pang of regret as he thought this was something his brother should be doing.

"He's doing a lot better," Yelina said. "The nightmares have almost stopped completely."

Horatio watched his nephew laughingly catch the ball. Ray seemed to be completely over his ordeal and Horatio hoped he'd been left with no permanent scars. "He looks happier."

"He is."

"You look happier too."

Yelina smiled. "I am. John's been a good friend. Ray likes him."

Horatio was happy for his sister-in-law. He squeezed her hand. "Good."

"Anyway, what about you? You've been miserable lately."

"I haven't." 

Yelina tilted her head and raised her eyebrow. He knew she'd caught the lie. "You know, I'm sure Calleigh would like to hear how the trial went."

"It'll be in the papers," Horatio said.

"Sometimes you are too much like your brother." Yelina shook her head. She took Horatio by the hand and led him to the phone. "Remind me to tell you how he finally asked me out."

"Yelina—"

"I can't stand seeing you moping around for one more second." She held the phone in her outstretched hand. "So are you going to do something about it, or are you going to continue being miserable?"

Horatio stared at the phone, then smiled and held out his hand. Yelina was right; it was time for him to do something.


	2. two

Calleigh felt as though she was lost in time. Every day was exactly the same as the one before. She had been home for a month and was still officially confined to bedrest. The boredom made her grumpy and irritable and she couldn't stand anyone's company for longer than ten minutes at a time.

Enough was enough, she decided one morning, and surprised everyone by appearing downstairs for breakfast. Marjorie immediately rose from the table and tried to usher her back upstairs. She shook her head and sat down.

"Calleigh, honey, you shouldn't be up. You're still recovering."

"I'll take it easy."

Marjorie regarded her daughter with a critical eye. Eventually, she nodded. "Alright. But as soon as you're tired, it's back to bed."

"Mother! I'm not a baby."

"When you have children . . ." Marjorie stopped, then smiled. "No, you're not. Sometimes I wish you were. You've grown up so quickly. And one day, hopefully one day soon—I'm not going to live forever—one day you'll understand that mothers will _always_ worry about their children."

She came to stand behind Calleigh's chair and brushed her hair away from her face. Calleigh had to smile; she guessed correctly that her mother was only too happy to be looking after her again.

"Oh," Marjorie said. "I almost forgot. Your brother called this morning. He's just got back from Africa. He said he'll come by in a couple of days."

"Africa? I thought he was in India."

"He might have said India. It was a bad connection."

Calleigh grinned; glad she would see her baby brother soon. As children, Calleigh had found escape in guns and Thomas had turned to photography. He told her he wanted to capture beauty, and he gave the best photographs to her because he wanted her life to be beautiful. He was still looking for beauty, and he still sent her his best work.

* * *

It was strange for Horatio to walk into the ballistics lab and see someone else's head bent over a microscope. Aaron Stuckey, Calleigh's temporary replacement, was competent and hard working, but he didn't hold a candle to the woman whose position he now occupied. It was unfair of the others to constantly compare him to Calleigh, but it was completely unintentional. Everyone tried to include him yet no one could forget that he was there because Calleigh wasn't.

Horatio spoke to Calleigh almost every week. Their conversations were light and short. He knew better than to push her. Alexx spoke to Calleigh more often, and he would ask her how Calleigh really was. She always said, "Fine," no matter how hard Horatio pressed for more information.

* * *

Calleigh rocked gently in the garden swing, enjoying being outside. Thomas sat cross-legged on the grass in front of her. He had let his hair grow while he was away, and now it hung to his shoulders. He was as dark as Calleigh was fair, and more tanned than usual from hours spent in the sun.

"So, how long are you planning to hide out here?" Thomas had always been able to read her.

"What makes you think I'm hiding?"

He smiled and squinted up at her. "I can't think of any other reason why you'd spend so much time here."

"Well, maybe 'cause I've been in bed for a month and unable to go anywhere."

"So you're not hiding from anyone in Miami, say, a certain lieutenant?"

She blushed, but couldn't deny it. "I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"So it's true?"

"Tommy . . ." He took a photo as she smiled. "You still working with that piece of crap?" she asked, her tone light and teasing.

"Hey, watch what you're calling a piece of crap."

She laughed. "Did you find what you were looking for in India?"

He nodded, growing serious, sad, as if a shadow had fallen over him. "Yes. Her name's Arundhati."

"So when do I get to meet her?"

"You don't. She's married."

"Oh." Calleigh knelt on the grass. "I'm sorry."

Thomas shrugged. "It doesn't matter. She's happy. That's all I want."

Calleigh didn't know what to say. She took her brother's hand and saw the faded scars on his wrist. She looked up, her mouth open in shock. "Tommy—" She found matching scars on the other arm.

"I was depressed for a while, after I came back from Ethiopia. I felt like I was drowning in ugliness. The doctors diagnosed me as manic-depressive. Instead of going for counseling, I went to India." He smiled, trying to make light of his pain. Calleigh wasn't having any of it.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "Guess we didn't come out of childhood as unscathed as we thought. I'm seriously screwed up and you're incapable of trusting anyone."

She ignored the second part of his sentence. "How many times did you try?"

"Twice."

Calleigh put her arms around him and they sat in silence for a long time. "Tell me about Arundhati," she said later.

"She's beautiful, Cal. I was in a market in Delhi and I saw her buying fruit. It seemed like where she stood was brighter than anywhere else. Her laugh was like music and she tasted like jasmine—"

"Whoa! Too much information." Calleigh laughed.

"Every time I left her, I ached to turn around and kiss her one more time. And when she smiled, she made my spine tingle."

"So why'd she marry someone else?"

"Because I'm not Muslim." Thomas plucked at the grass, his hand shaking slightly. "Have you ever felt that way about someone?"

Calleigh let him turn the conversation away from himself. "Yeah. Yeah, I have."

"This Horatio you're always telling me about?"

She nodded. "To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about him. If we were to become involved, it would complicate things at work."

"Could you picture your life without him in it?"

Calleigh smiled. "Hey, I'm the older sister. I'm supposed to be the one to give advice."

"Dinner's ready!" Marjorie called.

Calleigh and Thomas looked at each other. For a moment they were children again. Thomas pushed Calleigh to the ground, tickling her mercilessly. She shrieked with laughter.

"'Fess up, Cal. Can you?"

"Thomas Duquesne! If you hurt your sister . . ."

Still laughing, he released her and helped her up. "You okay?"

"Yep."

Arm in arm, they walked back to the house. Thomas' last question played on Calleigh's mind: _Could you picture your life without him in it?_

No, she thought. But she still wasn't ready to go back to Miami.


	3. three

Thomas spent a week in Darnell, then announced that he was off to Rio. The morning after he left, Calleigh found an album of photographs on the foot of her bed. _For my beautiful sister_ he'd written. The first photograph was of Arundhati standing in a marketplace, a basket in her hand. Her face was turned towards the camera, caught in a laugh. Calleigh smiled sadly; now she understood why Thomas had fallen so hard for this woman.

A month after Thomas' departure, Marjorie knocked on Calleigh's door. "You have a visitor," she announced.

Calleigh wasn't dressed for company but she couldn't be bothered to change. She ran a brush through her hair and pulled on a pair of slippers. When she got downstairs, she wished she'd made more of an effort.

Horatio stood in the middle of the living room, his hands in his pockets. Now that he was here, she realized just how much she'd missed him. His back was towards her as he looked at the family photographs on the wall. Calleigh nervously fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

"Hi," she said when she finally found her voice.

He turned slowly, his expression unreadable. Then, as he looked at her, he smiled. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them, and she bit her tongue to keep from saying anything else.

"I wanted to see for myself how you were doing. Everyone says to tell you they miss you."

"How are you coping without me?"

A look of pain crossed his face and Calleigh knew he'd misinterpreted the question. 

"At work," she added. "Alexx says there's a new guy. I guess I'm not that hard to replace." She laughed.

"No one could replace you."

The conversation was heading into dangerous territory. She needed to turn back quickly. Now, while there was still time. "Uh, can I get you something to drink?"

"Your mother's already offered."

"Oh. Well, umm, sit." Calleigh felt ridiculously like a schoolgirl. She gestured for him to sit on the couch while she curled up in an armchair. 

"How are you?"

"Good. I'm good. Just about all better, although my mama's still paranoid about letting me do anything. Sometimes it hurts, but I think that's psychosomatic." Aware she was babbling, Calleigh was helpless to stop herself. "Doc Abbot gave me vitamin E oil to rub on the scars. I think it's helping. They're not as bad as they used to be . . ."

She trailed off as Horatio knelt in front of the armchair and raised his hands to her waist. She held her breath when he tugged the drawstrings of her pants and pulled them down just enough to see her scar. He rubbed his thumb over the raised flesh. She closed her eyes; his touch had made her spine tingle.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath falling hot against her skin. When his lips brushed her scar, she let her head fall back.

__

You shouldn't be doing this! her conscience screamed. 

__

I know she agreed, even as her fingers wound through his hair, pulling him closer. But she had missed him and it had been so long since she'd felt his touch and . . .

Marjorie coughed from the doorway. Horatio returned to his seat, looking at a spot on the floor, his usually composed face flushed. Calleigh knew he was as embarrassed as she was. She buried her face in her hands, not sure whether to thank her mother or curse her for the interruption.

"Well," Marjorie drawled, "I see my daughter's taken Southern hospitality to another extreme."

Calleigh was mortified. She sank further into the armchair and wished she could disappear completely.

"I assume you'll be staying for dinner, Mr. Caine?"

"If I'm not intruding—"

"Not at all. It's been a while since this house has seen a dinner party."

"Mother! A small dinner's fine. You don't have to go to the effort of—"

"Nonsense." Marjorie smiled, ever the perfect hostess. "It's not an effort. Mr. Caine has come all the way here."

"Call me Horatio," he said.

Marjorie turned her smiling face to him and it was settled. Calleigh wondered exactly when it was that she'd lost control of her life.

* * *

Horatio studied Marjorie Duquesne over his glass of brandy. When she'd pressed the drink into his hand, he'd found himself unable to decline. He smiled, likening her to a force of nature. She reminded him of Calleigh. They both moved with the same elegant grace and carried their beauty with an unconscious ease. It was obvious where Calleigh got her spirit from.

Marjorie glanced upwards. "I wonder what's taking her so long."

Calleigh had disappeared earlier, saying she needed to get ready for dinner. Horatio felt underdressed, especially when Marjorie had come down in a beautiful blue gown. "Who else is coming to dinner?" he asked.

Marjorie smiled, noticing his confusion. "No one. I enjoy playing hostess, and Calleigh needed an excuse to get out of those awful sweatsuits she insists on wearing."

"Is this the house she grew up in?"

Marjorie nodded. "Yes, although I'm afraid it doesn't hold too many happy memories for her. I only found the courage to divorce Ken once she and Tommy had left."

"Tommy?"

She picked up a photo. "Her younger brother. He's a photographer. Calleigh preferred a different kind of shooting, unfortunately." 

Horatio smiled, enjoying this glimpse of Calleigh's family. He pointed to another photograph, recognizing a younger version of Calleigh holding hands with a strange boy. "Is this Tommy?"

Marjorie sighed and sat down. She smiled fondly but what she said came as a complete surprise to Horatio. "That's Clayton. Calleigh's twin."

"Calleigh has a twin?" 

"Had. He drowned about a month after this picture was taken. Calleigh was devastated; he was only six years old."

"I'm sorry." Horatio set the picture down, sensing he'd pried enough.

"That's when my husband started drinking. Our marriage went downhill from then on. When Calleigh started playing with guns, I just about died. I was convinced she'd end up shooting herself. And then she came home one day and told me she wanted to be a cop. Every time the phone rings I pray it isn't someone calling to tell me she's dead. I don't think I could stand to lose another child."

"Calleigh's good at what she does. You should be proud of her."

"It still almost got her killed, didn't it?"

Horatio sat next to her. "No, it didn't. I almost got her killed."

Just as Marjorie looked at him in surprise, Calleigh spoke from the door. "No, you didn't."

Horatio held his breath. Calleigh was a vision in red, the dress hugging her in all the right places. For a moment, she was all he saw, then, slowly, the rest of the world came back into focus.

Marjorie chose that moment to disappear, saying she needed to see if dinner was ready.

"Calleigh, you look . . . you look great."

"It's not black, but it is one of the few dresses that still fits me. I swear, my mother's trying to fatten me up."

He shook his head, unable to see even an ounce of fat on her. He realized he was staring and took a sip of brandy.

Calleigh came to sit next to him. "So tell me why you really came. As great as Rosa's cooking is, I'm sure it wasn't that. And I also doubt it was to chat to my mother."

"You've been away a long time."

She nodded. "Doctor's orders. No work until I was completely recovered."

"Are you coming back?" 

She hesitated long enough for his heart to break. "I really don't know, Horatio."

"Dinner's ready," Marjorie announced.

* * *

"Do you know why Dos Santos tried to kill you?" Horatio asked. He and Calleigh sat on the porch steps, looking out at the night sky.

"It doesn't matter," Calleigh said.

"Yes, it does." He thought she'd never been more beautiful than she was now, her face bathed in moonlight, her hair falling softly past her shoulders. He was close enough to feel her warmth without actually touching her and he ached to close the gap between them.

"I'm just glad nothing happened to Ray."

"I'm not here to talk about Ray."

Calleigh sighed. "Dos Santos is in prison. He can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Calleigh—"

"I used to sit out here with my dad, when he wasn't passed out on the floor." Calleigh swiftly changed the subject. "We talked about everything. And it kind of made up for everything else he did."

"I've seen a lot of your dad lately," he confessed. 

"He's had you picking him up at the bar, hasn't he? I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with him."

"I picked him up once. We had a long chat when he sobered up." He didn't tell her that Kenwall had been so drunk that he'd forgotten about his daughter's injury. "He joined the AA. He's been sober for a month and a half now."

Calleigh shook her head. "He _says_ that but every time he's tried, he's failed."

"He means it this time."

Calleigh was silent. 

"You said earlier that you weren't sure you wanted to come back to Miami."

"I don't know what I want."

"You know, we never had that talk."

She turned her head. "Horatio, don't do this."

His eyes met hers. Please, they begged.

Hers said, I can't.

He gave the tiniest of nods and bent his head to hers. Her lips parted enough to allow his tongue access to her mouth. She kissed him back with equal fierceness. Drowning in her, he found some last reserve of sanity and pulled back. He cupped her cheek in his palm, surprised to find it wet with tears.

"I'm sorry," he said. He'd never meant to make her cry. "I'd better go. I have a plane to catch in a couple of hours."

When she didn't stop him from leaving, he told himself it didn't matter. 

It was a lie.


	4. four

Calleigh was unnaturally subdued at the breakfast table the next morning. She picked listlessly at her food, eventually dropping her fork and pushing the plate away.

"Something on your mind, dear?" Marjorie feigned innocence.

"I didn't sleep well."

"I must confess, if that man looked at me the way he looked at you, I'd have trouble sleeping too."

"Mother!"

Marjorie shrugged. "I'm just saying . . ."

"Well, don't." Calleigh petulantly crossed her arms. Marjorie opened her mouth to speak. "No, I don't want to hear it."

Calleigh stood and carried her plate to the kitchen, smiling apologetically at Rosa. "I'm sorry. I'm just not hungry this morning."

"Ah," Rosa nodded in understanding. Her worn face broke into a smile. She tapped her chest. "Your heart, she is sick, no?"

If Calleigh hadn't been used to Rosa's thick accent, she wouldn't have understood a word. "No," she replied in Spanish. "My heart is fine."

"Si, si, the man. Horatio, no?"

Calleigh groaned. "Not you too."

Marjorie followed her into the kitchen. "You're acting like a lovesick fool."

"Mother, please."

"Si, lovesick," Rosa agreed, nodding emphatically.

"I give up." Calleigh whirled around and marched away. 

Marjorie was not so easy to get rid of. "Calleigh Marie Duquesne, don't you walk away from me."

Calleigh turned back to face her mother, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing fire. Rosa stifled a chuckle and sat down, ready to watch the fireworks. This kitchen had been the scene of many an argument between the Duquesne women.

"I can't believe I actually have to tell you this," Marjorie said. "You're not sixteen anymore. You should know better than to play games with a man like Horatio."

"I'm not playing games!" Calleigh's voice rose.

"Then explain to me why two people so obviously in love with each other spent the night apart?"

"Well, for one thing, I didn't think you'd appreciate your daughter fucking someone under your roof."

"You didn't seem to have that problem yesterday afternoon."

Calleigh gasped. "My relationship with Horatio is . . . it's complicated . . . and we weren't . . . I don't want to discuss it."

"So you're going to ignore the issue and hope it goes away?"

Calleigh nodded. "Maybe. Is that so wrong?"

"It is when it's the kind of issue that doesn't go away. What are you so afraid of?"

"Nothing!"

"So why haven't you gone back to Miami? You keep telling me that your life's there now and how much you love it there."

The fight suddenly went out of Calleigh. She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer to her mother. "You're trying to chase me away. Why?"

"That's ridiculous." Marjorie had never been a good liar.

"Mother."

She threw up her hands. "I want you to be happy. I'll be honest, when I first met Horatio, I thought he was far too old for you. But then I saw you together. There's a light in your eyes when you look at him. Do you know how rare that is? He's a good man, Calleigh. He can make you happy."

Calleigh glanced at Rosa and then back at her mother. They had the same earnest expression in their eyes. Calleigh smiled. "He convinced Dad to go to AA meetings."

"And still, you doubt." Rosa clucked her tongue. Muttering about foolish girls, she turned away.

"You've been given a second chance," Marjorie said. She touched Calleigh where the sword had pierced her. "Don't waste it."

Calleigh didn't need to hear the unspoken thought to know that her mother was remembering Clayton.

"He makes my spine tingle," she admitted softly. 

Marjorie smiled and hugged her. "Good. Every woman should know at least one man who makes her spine tingle."

Rosa's chuckle let Calleigh know she agreed.

* * *

Horatio found Alexx sipping coffee in the break room. She looked up when he walked in, her expression mildly surprised. "Back so soon?"

"Darnell wasn't quite what I expected."

Alexx nodded sagely. "How's Calleigh?"

"She looks good. Healthy."

"Happy?"

"I think so."

"Mmm." Alexx raised a questioning eyebrow, but Horatio felt he'd revealed enough.

"I see CSI survived a day without me."

"It was hard, but we managed." She smiled. "Come by the lab when you have a minute." 

She stood to answer her cell phone, and walked out, leaving Horatio alone. He looked around the room, glad to be back, but feeling as though he'd left his heart in Louisiana.

No, he thought. He refused to sound like some blues song. So Calleigh wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship, that was fine by him. He understood. He'd get over her.

He hoped. 

Calleigh wasn't the kind of girl one easily got over.

* * *

Two weeks later, Calleigh knocked on the door of her father's apartment. When he answered, she was thrilled to see him looking better than he had in years.

"Calleigh!" He threw his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. For an instant she was eight years old again, dancing in the moonlight with her father.

"It's good to see you, Dad."

He stepped back, holding her at arms' length while he looked her up and down. "You look well," he proclaimed, nodding in satisfaction.

"Rosa's cooking." Calleigh smiled. "But you look great too."

"It's been two months."

She nodded. "I know. And I'm proud of you."

"Oh, Lambchop." He pulled her into another hug. "Look, I've got to run. I'm meeting with my sponsor and I can't be late. Let's have dinner soon, okay? Tomorrow?"

"It sounds good. I can't wait."

Calleigh's next stop was CSI. Only Alexx knew she was back so Calleigh was slightly apprehensive of the reception she would receive.

She pulled into the parking lot as Speed and Delko exited the building. She raised her hand to wave at them, and they headed straight for her, both sporting huge smiles.

"Calleigh, it's so good to see you!" Speed hugged her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good." She let out a laugh as Delko claimed his hug.

"It's about time you came home."

"Where are you guys off to?"

"A floater in a canal. Want to come?"

Calleigh laughed. "Another time."

"H. is in the autopsy lab." Speed winked.

"I can wait." She let her friends get back to work and went inside the once-familiar building. A dark-haired man was bent over a microscope in the ballistics lab. He looked up when she entered and frowned when he didn't recognize her.

"This place is off-limits, Miss."

Calleigh smiled. "I'm Calleigh Duquesne. I—"

"Ah. The famous Calleigh Duquesne." He held out his hand. "Aaron Stuckey. It's a pleasure to meet you. I have to admit, I was starting to wonder if you were real."

"Why?" She decided she liked this man.

"Well, the way people spoke of you, I thought you were some kind of deity."

She laughed. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"A demigod, at least."

"Mr. Stuckey—"

"Aaron."

"Okay, Aaron."

"I'm looking forward to working together."

His mood was infectious. "Me too."

Calleigh went past the autopsy bay to discover that Alexx was alone. Alexx was delighted to see her but insisted they could catch up later over a bottle of wine. "He's in his office," she said, and raised crossed fingers. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Calleigh gave her the thumbs up sign and left.

Horatio was poring over a file when Calleigh knocked on the door. She held her breath when he looked up, then broke into a smile. It was good to see him again. No, she thought. Not good, great.

He seemed surprised by her presence and slowly got to his feet. His eyes never left her face.

"You know," she began nervously, "We never had that talk."

He crossed the room in three quick steps until they were face to face, only inches apart. Calleigh wrapped her arms around his waist and closed the gap between them. Her head against his chest, she said, "I missed you."

He didn't say anything; he didn't have to. As they stood there, Calleigh wondered what she'd been so afraid of. It seemed so silly now. Her mother was right, she thought. She had been acting like a fool.

"It's good to have you back," Horatio said at last. 

There were a thousand things she wanted to say to him, but for the moment she was content just to stand there in his arms. Her eyes closed, listening to his heartbeat, Calleigh smiled and knew she had come home.


End file.
